Not One Word
by zeppx
Summary: Story time and tea parties are not some things Dean is comfortable doing.
1. Chapter 1

So, I had the niggling idea to do this. I don't know why. Just kept bothering me until I wrote it, there's another chapter to do so you'll see it soonish, been busy with packing up to move and school and what not. I believe this is called a crack fic. I could be wrong. New to the Supernatural realm of fic writing. But if I'm right then it's pure unadulterated crack.

All mistakes are my own since I'm just that lazy. And I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. If they were you'd never see me again.

* * *

Dean Winchester wasn't one to let a little three and a half foot tall girl order him around, a little girl who hadn't said one word since he and Sam had entered Bobby's living room. But here she was, all curly blonde hair and big brown eyes, looking up at him with this pathetic little look he couldn't deny. It resembled the look Sam had perfected on Dean when they had been growing up, the same look Dean had hardened himself against. But this little girl didn't deserve that, she deserved whatever Dean could do for her to make her happy.

Bobby had said she had recently lost her mother, not in a fire or anything like the Winchesters had, but in a plain car accident. Her father was a hunter who was currently off on a group hunt and he'd dropped her off with Bobby much like John had dropped Sam and Dean off. They hadn't planned on coming here at all, but on the last hunt Dean had managed to tear his ACL in his knee and after the surgery to fix it Sam had stated they were staying at Bobby's the alloted time it took for Dean to heal.

Naturally Dean was against it, he could still hold the shotgun and shoot shit if he needed to. Would probably fall flat on his ass but he could still do it. Could also manage an awkward shuffle, hop wobble walk without his crutches at the moment but he wouldn't be able to walk right for another couple weeks, and even then he would have to keep the stupid brace on for another month or so. And then the therapy, and the limp would persist for another few months. He just hopped Sam didn't plan on staying _that_ long or Dean would find himself going a little stir crazy.

They hadn't expected Bobby to be babysitting though and had offered to hole up somewhere else, but naturally Bobby had called them idjits and demanded they stay, could help look after the little girl. A little girl, who much like Dean had after he'd lost his own mother, had shut herself off from the world of talking. And in some unspoken agreement Bobby and Sam had left him to look after her, Sam muttering something about Dean having a way with kids. He would disagree, but whatever. He didn't mind kids, liked kids, had a connection with them that he didn't really understand. Maybe because he had raised Sam, or maybe because he had his own little kid trapped inside begging to be let out sometimes.

"So, Annabelle, anything in particular that you like to do?" Dean asked, he was sitting on the couch watching as she petted her worn out teddy bear, one eye was missing from it and she seemed more than a little distressed about that.

"I don't know if you remember, but Bobby introduced me as Dean. That's my little brother Sam in the other room getting his geek on." Sam was researching something or other, claiming to help Bobby with one of the hunts that was going on out there without them. And that's how they would spend their time here. Sam helping Bobby with the research, Dean helping Bobby fix the cars that came in to the yard needing fixed.

Annabelle turned her big brown eyes on him once more and held out her teddy bear. He gently took it from her, ran his hand over the spot where the missing eye would have been and said, "Looks like Teddy had a little tragedy happen." A solemn nod was his answer.

"You wouldn't happen to know where his eye is would you? I can fix it for you." Her eyes widened a little in hope. Her teddy could be whole again and this stranger could fix it for her. Dean had fixed many stuffed animals in his time, Sam when he had been younger had had a stuffed dog that he had been particularly fond of. It was the only stuffed animal he hadn't managed to lose or leave behind in the various motels. Even at the age of seven Dean was pretty proficient with a needle and thread, already having had to stitch up his Dead on occasion. So he'd performed many 'surgeries' on the stuffed dog in those four years that Sam had had him. Fixed holes, missing eyes, a tail that had been ripped off. He practiced his stitches mostly those times, but had fixed the damn thing nonetheless.

"Hey Bobby, you got any needle and thread?"

"Of course I do you idjit, who do you think you're staying with?" Dean gave him a grin and waited until Bobby returned with the suturing needle and thread. Annabelle had since then relinquished her hold on the missing eyeball that she'd somehow managed to keep in her pocket without losing. Upon inspection Dean was happy to note that the little nub that held it onto the bear hadn't broken off, it had simply been a broken thread that had caused Teddy to lose his precious eye.

"Don't worry Anna, I'll get your Teddy fixed up just fine." Dean muttered getting to work. He didn't notice Sam come in and sit himself on the recliner across from his brother, didn't notice the subtle way Bobby took a picture.

Bent over the worn out teddy bear with a suturing needle and thread in his hand, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrated, Annabelle standing off to the side, a thumb stuck in her mouth watching with wide eyes. He supposed it would have made a funny picture, probably would have taken one had it been Sam. Didn't mean he was pleased about it. Nor would he ever admit that he kept that polaroid in his wallet for years to come.

"So _Dr. Dean_ was the surgery a success?" Dean glared at Sam, looked the teddy bear over for any holes that may need stitching up then nodded the affirmative.

"Yes, a major success," he handed the bear to Annabelle and continued, "No worries Anna, teddy has full vision now in both his eyes." The little five year old beamed at him and Dean decided then and there it was totally worth the teasing and embarrassment to come.

She hugged her bear to her and hopped up on the couch next to Dean, deciding then in her little child mind that he was someone to trust and glue herself to for the remainder of her stay.

A couple hours alter Bobby declared it nap-time for Annabelle and told Dean to get started on dinner. Dean had always been the chef of the family, learning when he was fifteen from random cookbooks found in libraries so he'd be able to properly feed his brother. Had turned out to be better than the crap they'd gotten from diners and fast food joints. And he hadn't turned out to be half bad at cooking either, there had been something soothing about it all that made the end of the day not so bad.

It was one reason Bobby liked having them around, Dean cooked and helped with the cars, Sam researched and straightened up a little every now and then. It brought life to the house, warmth that Bobby had been missing since his wife had died, but always came around when the brothers were there to keep him company.

"Dude, what are you making?"

"Food Sammy. What else would I be making?" Sam huffed out a sigh, sat down at the table by the window and watched his brother stir whatever was in the pot in front of him.

"Don't worry Sam, it will be edible."

"I don't doubt it Dean. You wouldn't make something you wouldn't be able to eat." His brother nodded, smiling to himself and handed Sam a beer.

"I kind of feel bad for her." Dean muttered a minute later.

"Who?"

"Annabelle. Losing her mom, being left here. We should know it's not easy." Sam nodded, he didn't remember their mother but he knew what it was like growing up without one, remembered being dropped off here with Bobby and other times with Pastor Jim. Knew what it was like to wonder what was going on, if their dad would come back at all.

"Yeah, it sucks."

Whatever else was going to be said was cut off by the thundering of little feet on the stairs and seconds after that the little blonde missile collided with Dean's good leg.

"Uh...hi?" Sam bit his lip to keep the smile and laugh inside, knowing Dean would either throw something at him or hit him next time he passed by. Annabelle smiled shyly up at Dean, shoved her thumb into her mouth and watched on as Bobby raced into the kitchen after her, sighing when he spotted where she'd gone.

"Looks like you've got a fan boy." Dean merely grunted and managed to work his way towards the sink with Annabelle still attached. He must have a sign on his forehead that announced to the world that he could be a kids best friend if they never left him alone. Or looked up at him with those damn brown eyes.

After dinner and after several hours on the couch with Sam reading on one side of him and Anna coloring on the other, Dean was ready for bed. His painkillers were finally kicking in and he was well on his way to stoned. Which was perfectly okay with him. Several minutes after that he was vaguely aware of a steady weight pressing against his right arm but he was far to invested in tracing that crack in the ceiling.

"Okay, I think it's bedtime for you two." Dean cast a glance at Sam who was looking at him with that know-it-all smile of his.

"Huh?"

"Bedtime."

"Sure." Sam grinned again and with the help of Bobby got Dean and Annabelle upstairs. Sam paused with Dean in the doorway into the room Annabelle was using and watched as the little girl waved at Dean.

"Night Anna." Dean murmured, but that wasn't what she wanted.

"She wants a story." Bobby whispered joining the brothers in the doorway.

"Oh sweetheart, I don't do stories." A pout.

"I'm not even coherent!" That lower lip stuck out further, brown eyes widened.

"Bobby can tell you one, I'm sure he's been doing it for the last couple of nights." A shake of the head and she gestured for Dean to come over.

"She wants you to do it son. Your own fault for charming her."

"Man, Bobby. I ain't no babysitter! And I'm not a freakin' storyteller! Plus I'm high." He gave the two men a goofy grin as if to prove his point, they both just stared at him with a look that said he was shit out of luck. He turned to look at Annabelle and she was still carrying on with the puppy dog look, even had the lower lip trembling. Kid knew how to work it that was for sure.

"Fine." He shook himself free from Sam and collapsed on the other side of the queen sized bed, getting himself situated against the headboard. Sam shot him a grin and closed the door before disappearing down the hallway to the room he and Dean usually shared.

"Okay then. A story." God his brain was no where near being able to think of a story right now. What was he supposed to tell her? The stories he'd usually told Sam were various stories made up about the monsters their dad usually hunted. Probably not something a little girl wanted to hear, didn't they like the whole princess and knight thing?

He felt that weight settle against his side again and he looked down to see Annabelle curled up against him, head resting on his chest as she looked up at him expectantly. He was already fighting his eyelids to stay up, fighting that nod of his head to fall back against the headboard to fall asleep. But there was that adorable little girl expecting him to come up with a story for her.

"Uh...okay. Once upon a time there was a uh...princess? And she uh...was uh..." He paused and looked down, thankfully Annabelle had been tired too and she was already fighting her own eyelid drooping.

"The princess was...er, in need of supplies. So one day she went to the market and uh...well she, hell I don't know." He looked down again expecting those eyes to be on him, accusing him of being such a crappy storyteller, but she was out, her eyes closed and her breathing deep and even.

"Thank God." He let his own head thunk back finally and closed his eyes, not caring about the crap he would catch in the morning from Sam. He was comfortable and warm.

That was all that mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry about the delay, got caught up in more packing and then of course the season premiere. I hope this chapter is okey dokey, depending on how people see it I may do another chapter just to round it out, otherwise this will probably be the last of it.

So I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Sam woke in the morning to the smell of coffee and bacon, it helped the decision to either get up or stay in bed burrowed under all the blankets. He made his way downstairs and was about to enter the kitchen when he paused by the living room when something in his peripheral caused him to pause.

Bobby had set up a small white plastic table in the middle of the room for Annabelle. It was surrounded by four purple plastic chairs which seemed incredibly small to Sam, but were the perfect size for the six year old. She sat in one, dressed in her pajamas with a purple feather boa wrapped around her neck and a small tiara on her head.

What shocked Sam though was the fact that Dean was sitting next to her, a pink feather boa wrapped around his own neck, his bad leg stretched out to the side and his other leg jammed up to where his knee was almost to his chin. Three small tea cups were set around the table filled with what Sam guessed to be apple juice. A small tea kettle sat in the middle of the table which was surrounded by small pieces of toast with a small jar of strawberry jam.

Sam smothered the hysterical laughter that was bubbling up with a cough and hid his smile behind his hand. Dean slid his eyes over to Sam, glared at him and growled, "Now one word Sam. Not. One. Single. Word."

"You look...very...pretty Dean."

"Why don't you go play in traffic Sammy." Dean turned his attention back to Annabelle who had finished putting jam on a piece of toast and was holding it out for Dean to take.

"If you say anything, so help me God I will make you sit down here with us. Or make her paint your nails or something." Dean growled again when Sam could barely contain his laughter.

"Sure Dean, whatever." With that he headed into the kitchen where Bobby was having no problem laughing.

"How'd that happen out there?" Sam asked while filling up a mug with coffee.

"I have no idea. Your brother seems to have a soft spot when it comes to kids though. Or it's the painkillers. But she gave him the pathetic puppy dog look and he went right for it." He took the plate Bobby offered him and sat down at the table and dug in. He knew Dean would somehow get his revenge either later in the day when he finally crashed from the accumulation of painkillers or if they decided to team up on him.

After breakfast he went and sat himself down on the couch with a book. An honest to goodness book, he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually sat down and been able to read something that wasn't related to a hunt or some form of research. Sam figured if they were gonna be laid up here for several weeks he might as well take it to be some form of a vacation and enjoy a novel. Dean and Annabelle had since finished up with their tea party and the two were now coloring at the table, Dean talking quietly to Annabelle while she listened, nodding every now and then when he asked her a question.

She still wasn't talking but Sam figured she would when she was ready, from he could remember Dean telling him Dean too had fallen silent for about a year after their mom had died. Plus they'd only been there for a night, and even though she'd certainly taken a liking to his older brother she still didn't know them very well.

After awhile he heard giggling coming from the table and he glanced up from his book and looked over at the two.

"What are you giggling about?" Dean shot him an innocent look paired with his patented smirk and said, "Nothin'."

"Liar." Dean only smiled and turned and whispered something to Annabelle who giggled again. He must have begun planning his revenge.

"I have a feeling you're talking about me."

"You're being paranoid dude."

"Am not."

"Uh-huh." Sam shot him a glare, Dean grinned and Annabelle giggled again. Maybe he was being paranoid, Dean could simply be telling her funny stories that involved their childhood and embarrassed Sam in some way, but Annabelle was actually giggling so it had to count for something.

"Well I'm hungry. Sammy what's for lunch?"

"Dude you're always hungry. Why don't you make something for yourself."

"Well one, I'm crippled. Two Anna is hungry too."

"Crippled my ass, you made dinner last night."

"So?"

"Dean..."

"C'mon dude." Sam heaved a sigh and headed for the kitchen, the only thing he could really make was a sandwich, somehow he always managed to burn everything he made. He'd even burnt macaroni and cheese once much to Dean's amazement. Hell he even burnt toast.

There were noises coming from the living room and Sam figured they were moving the little table back into the corner it had been during the night when they'd arrived. There was a shriek from Annabelle, more giggling and then Dean said from behind him, "Dude, I've got something on my neck." Sam turned to see Dean in the doorway, Annabelle on his back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. She smiled at Sam who said, "That looks pretty serious man."

"We're hungry, when's lunch?"

"Now."

"Awesome." Annabelle dislodged herself from Dean's back and hopped into the chair by the kitchen table and patiently waited for her sandwich. Dean filled up a glass with juice for her and set it by the plate Sam put in front of her.

"I hope you didn't mess up a sandwich, they're pretty impossible to screw up." Sam tossed a piece of bread at his brother and grumbled, "Shut up and eat."

* * *

It was later in the night when Sam was finally distracted enough with his book that Dean managed to get Anna upstairs to get her things and come back down without his brother noticing. He grinned at her as she came back down with her assorted items and a big chest of something that Dean didn't even want to know about.

"Remember what we talked about. Just give him those puppy eyes of yours, maybe even some lip sticking out and trembling and he'll cave." Dean whispered to her when she set everything down next to him. Somehow he had managed to convince her to use Sam as her little puppet instead of Dean, he thought it had something to do with the hair. Anna gave him a nod and she wandered oh so casually over to Sam and hopped up onto the couch next to him. He spared her a glance, smiled and went back to his book.

Dean wished he knew were Bobby kept the camera, he was going to make sure Sam was just as equally embarrassed as Dean had been that morning. Damn tea parties, he didn't do tea parties, and yet he had found himself smack dab in one. With a feather boa too! And Teddy sitting across from him staring at him with those beady little eyes, he could have sworn the little bastard was laughing at him. Or maybe it had just been the painkillers making him think like that. Either way, Dean Winchester did not do tea parties and he had somehow been forced into one and now he knew he would never live it down. So now his little brother was going to suffer with him.

He looked back over in time to see Anna tug on Sam's shirt sleeve and look up at him with the same look that had Dean bending to her every will.

"What's up kiddo?" She pointed over to where Dean was sitting and hopped off the couch and tried to pull him with her.

"What? Dean do you need something?"

"Me? No I'm good. Anna wants you to join us though."

"In what?" Dean gave an innocent shrug and said, "I dunno, she wants you for something over here though. I think you can put down the book and join us for a bit though." Sam heaved a sigh, giving his own version of the puppy dog look and Dean shook his head.

"She outweighs you on the look dude." Sam sighed again, looked at Anna who had her lip out and trembling, eyes wide and pleading.

"I hate you Dean."

"I know Sammy, I know."

About an hour later the three had finally situated themselves into a comfortable working position. Sam was seated on a chair, Anna stood behind him on a little step stool and Dean was behind her on his own chair.

"Dude what is she doing to me." Sam had been denied a mirror for the hour that Anna had been working and Dean could hear the annoyance in his voice. His brother must have one of the most epic of bitch faces plastered on his face.

"Dunno dude, I'm busy doing my own thing." Which was a half-truth. Anna had wanted her hair braided, not just in one big braid but a bunch of little ones, so Dean was busy doing that while she did the Sam thing to the mop that sat on top of Sam's head.

"I'm going to regret laughing at you this morning aren't I?"

"Most likely."

"Aw Dean c'mon man! You would have laughed your ass off had it been me."

"Yeah but I'm the older brother, I have that as a basic right." Sam let out a huff and Dean grinned, tying off his latest braid. He had started not knowing how in the hell to do a braid, he'd never had a little sister or met any woman who wanted him around to braid their hair. He'd managed after watching Anna do a couple on Sam's head though and was slowly becoming better at it.

"What are _you_ doing back there?" Sam asked finally.

"Braiding." There was a long silence in which Dean could just imagine the array of looks passing over his brothers face.

"You're...braiding?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"I wasn't aware you knew how to do a braid."

"I didn't, just watched Anna do some on your head and figured it out on my own."

"She's...braiding my hair?" Dean only chuckled in response and continued on in his own little braiding work. He couldn't believe that he had been reduced to this, babysitter extraordinaire. To think just the week before he'd been hunting a wendigo, and before that a werewolf, he'd stared them down and had no issues killing them but then this little kid comes along and he's finished. He would never understand it.

"What are you idjits doin'?" Dean looked over his shoulder at Bobby who had entered the living room, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Giving Sam a makeover."

"Hey!"

"Aw c'mon Sammy, you know you want to look pretty." Bobby let out a sigh and shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he walked out of the living room.

Dean had long since finished braiding Annabelle's hair and was just sitting watching as she went around Sam, finishing his hair and closing his eyes. She looked back at Dean who had placed himself on the couch to watch with a smile.

"Go ahead Anna, give him your finishing touches."

"What? What is she going to do?"

"No worries dude, just sit there and relax."

"But-"

"I'm really gonna regret this." Sam muttered, slouching down in the chair as Annabelle moved around him, done with his hair but not the rest of what they had planned. Dean relaxed back into the couch and watched with a smile. A couple minutes later Annabelle hopped up on to the couch next to Dean who announced, "All done Princess."

"I'm scared to open my eyes."

"Don't be a coward Sammy." Sam finally stood and Dean handed him a little mirror, and watched the horror spread over his little brothers face.

"Oh my God." Dean tried to cover up his laugh under a cough, but when Sam shot him a glare he couldn't help himself, one laugh escaped and then another until he was doubled over. Annabelle was sitting next to him swinging her feet against the couch with her own grin plastered on her face.

Sam had had his hair braided, bright blue eyeshadow put on, red lipstick and two splotches of blush placed on his cheeks. He gaped at himself in the small hand held mirror then glared at his brother who was still doubled over with laughter.

"You planned this didn't you."

"I gotta do tea parties you gotta do a makeover."

"Dean!"

"Oh come on, you know you like how you're lookin'. Can finally go to the prom." Sam shot him a glare, but with the eyeshadow it lost its threat and just made Dean double over with laughter again.


	3. Chapter 3

Judging from the amount of story alerts I got for this I took it to mean to continue. But, this will be the last chapter though. There may or may not be a somewhat sequel in the making, we'll see. Let me know your thoughts on the matter!

Once again, all mistakes are my own.

Hope you enjoy

* * *

The four of them fell into a routine in the following weeks. Sam would read the days away, sometimes he would head into town and do the shopping for the kitchen. Annabelle would spend her time with Dean, usually they would spend the time coloring or playing some of the board games they had found stashed away in a room upstairs. She would even join Dean out in the yard on the days he would work on one of the cars Bobby had around.

At night Annabelle and Dean would take over the kitchen to make dinner, afterwards Sam would clean up and then the four of them would sit in the living room and share stories of their funnier times on hunts with Annabelle. Then the whole day would start over again the next day. Sam thought it nice to have a routine, thought it was nice that they could relax for a bit without having to worry about anything. Dean though, was getting restless, complaining more often and not wanting to do the therapy for his knee until Sam pestered him into it.

It was three weeks until they heard from Annabelle's father, he spoke to Bobby and Bobby let them know he'd be there in a few days to pick her up. She still hadn't said a word to any of them, not even to Dean who spent the entire day talking to her. Sam didn't know what about, he knew better than to eavesdrop, no matter how much he wanted to.

It was the day before Annabelle's father came to get her when she came into their bedroom, hugging her teddy bear close. Sam had been awake, unable to fall asleep so he heard her quiet footsteps enter the room. Dean was sprawled on his stomach, one leg hanging off the edge of the bed, one hand under his pillow as usual. He didn't wake when Annabelle approached his bed and Sam almost let out a warning to her not to wake him up. Sam had learned the hard way when he'd been younger not to wake his older brother by touching him, a knife at the throat in a split second was hard to forget.

But he didn't have to worry, Annabelle simply stood there, staring, hanging onto her bear and one thumb stuck in her mouth as if she were much younger than her years. Sam wanted to say something to her, ask what she wanted, what she was scared of, but he didn't know how to ask, kids were not his strong point. It was Dean who knew what to do with them, what to say, how to offer them the comfort they needed.

He was about to open his mouth and ask what was wrong, but Dean startled awake, as if sensing the eyes on him. Sam saw his brothers eyes glance over at him, always making sure Sam was safe before himself before turning to Annabelle and asking, "You have another nightmare, kiddo?"

She had come in on nights before, claiming nightmares, Dean had simply walked her back to her room and come back several minutes later. But Annabelle shook her head and let out a sigh around her thumb.

"What's wrong then?" Annabelle looked down at her feet, in the darkness Sam could make out the misery on her face. Apparently Dean caught sight too and sat up and flipped on the light, all three blinking stupidly in the sudden brightness.

"Anna?" She finally looked up at Dean and then launched herself into his lap, earning a surprised grunt from Dean and raised eyebrows from Sam. Dean shot him a confused look and Sam merely shrugged, he knew he was already out of his league so he sat quietly and let his brother handle the situation. Dean threw him an annoyed look but shifted Annabelle until she was in more comfortable position and tried again, "What's wrong Annabelle?"

And with her face buried against his brothers neck she muttered the first words any of them had heard their entire stay, "I don't want you to go." Spoken with all the petulance of a six year old who wanted that one piece of candy but were being denied their request. The brothers exchanged looks, Sam shrugging and Dean sighing.

"Well, we kind of have to. A job to do and all. Plus you'll be going before we even leave here."

"Then I don't want to go either." More pout poured into that voice, slightly muffled by Dean's neck. Dean once again glanced at his brother, at a loss for what to say or do. Sam merely shrugged again, if Dean didn't know what to do with her he sure as hell wouldn't be able to tell him what to do.

"Don't you miss your Dad though? I'm sure he'll be real happy to see you."

"Don't care."

"Aw, don't say that Annie. You know your dad loves you and I'm sure he misses you a lot." Annabelle let out a frustrated sigh and repeated, "I want you to come with us." Dean sighed, he was at a complete loss at what to say to her to get her over this little hill. He almost fell into the John Winchester way of doing things by plonking her on the floor and telling her to suck it up. But he didn't, that would only cause tears and pain and that was something he wasn't really in the mood to accomplish.

"Um, well, hope about you just sleep on it and we'll talk in the morning okay?" Exhaustion could make you say weird shit, he could remember days when Sam had been younger, exhausted but to stubborn to do actually want to go to bed. Some of the things he had said then. Maybe Annabelle would be in a right state of mind in the morning after she slept.

"Can I sleep in here?" The twin sized beds that had been in the room since Sam and himself had been kids was barely big enough to hold him let alone another body. But he looked down into those damn puppy dog eyes and found himself sighing, "Fine." He pressed his back against the cold wall, holding up the blanket until Annabelle crawled in, curling up against his chest. Sam turned off the light and Dean settled the blanket back over them, hesitantly resting his arm over Annabelle, waiting for a complaint. None came, instead she snuggled closer and Dean resisted the urge to push her away, claiming not to be a sponge in which she could force absorption.

* * *

It wasn't any better in the morning. After breakfast when Bobby said her dad would be there in about an hour she had sat herself on the couch, crossed her arms and glared at her feet. She refused to be touched, refused to finish packing her things and refused to look at any of them. Dean hated when kids threw tantrums.

"Dude go talk to her." Dean pulled his head back around the corner he had been peering around, trying to get a read on her mood.

"_You_ go talk to her." Sam scoffed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm not going to talk to her."

"Why not? It was your brilliant plan in the first place."

"I'm not the one she's attached herself to since day one." Dean grumbled under his breath and peeked around the corner again. He didn't know what to say to her. There was no way him and Sam could go with her and her dad. They had their own hunts to go on, their own missions to accomplish.

Sam gave him a little shove and whispered, "Go on."

"Dude-" Another shove and he was fully into the living room, Annabelle's wrath focused on him instead of her feet now.

"Um...morning." Her lower lip jutted out.

"Listen, Anna-"

"Don't talk to me." The amount of pout put into that voice would have given Sam a run for his money in his younger years. Dean let out a sigh, closed his eyes and counted to ten before moving to the couch and sitting beside her. He chose to ignore the fact that she inched away from him.

"I would love to go with you and your dad and all of us just hang out and have a grand time, and I don't know how to say this to you without hurting your feelings, but it's just not going to happen." A loud throat clearing from the other side of the wall he'd been shoved around. He gave it a glare, Sam could stuff it, he'd pushed him out here to talk so Dean was going to talk. He'd never claimed to be good at that.

"But, I can give you our phone numbers, so whenever you want you can call us and talk to us, since you're talking now. Maybe sometimes if we're in the same area or something we can drop by for a visit. And if you're ever here at Bobby's again we'll for sure come and visit you." Judging by the amount of stuff left behind Bobby was planning on her father to be dropping her off again sometime in the future.

Annabelle sniffled and whispered, "Really?"

"Really." He ignored the fact that she had scooted closer to him now.

"Just because you can't always hang around with us doesn't mean we have to stop being friends or anything." Dean Winchester, friends with a six year old.

He'd never hear the end of it. But the smile on Annabelle's face was completely worth it as she hopped off the couch and finished getting ready. He resisted the eye roll that threatened to overwhelm him and instead muttered, "Kids," under his breath.

As promised an hour later Annabelle was tucked against her dad in the doorway, paper with Sam and Dean's cell phone numbers clutched in her hand. She'd already hugged everyone goodbye and had promised to call Dean as soon as they were settled wherever they were going to end up.

Dean promised himself it was the dust causing his eyes to water as he watched the car drive away, Annabelle waving at him from the back seat. Bobby gave one look, rolled his eyes and muttered, "Idjit." Before turning and heading back inside. Sam looked over at him, did the same eye roll and said, "You're such a girl."

"What? It's the dust!"

"Whatever."

"It's the _dust_ Sam! You know, allergies!" His response was the front door slamming shut behind him. He quickly wiped the moisture from his eyes and with a petulance he had picked up from Annabelle muttered, "Stupid...dust."

* * *

And that signifies the end.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Reviews are crack for my non-crack addicted soul. Really.


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